Four Years Ago Today

Four years ago today, I set my foot on this country's soil for the first time and my life has never been the same. I came with a cognitive knowledge of lostness, poverty, and desperation, but while I was here the Father opened my eyes to the need for Him in a whole new way.

I will never forget my first taxi ride from the airport to our hotel. The sights, smells, and sounds were overwhelming. It was HOT! People were out and the city was alive. That evening we went out for the first time. I saw things I'd never seen before—babies begging on the street, women asking for milk for their baby, dirt and garbage piled everywhere. As we were walking home that evening, there was a man lying on the side of the road only covered by a small piece of cloth. His body was convulsing and he was screaming, "Allah, Allah" for all who passed by to hear. I saw him there on the side of the road, but I didn't know what I could do to help. I walked around him. As soon as I'd done it, I remembered that Story about the Good Samaritan. I was no better than the priest or the Levite. This man and the countless other people on this street needed ÁC…and the sad reality was that nobody was there telling them about Him.

We were here only about a week. We served with smiles in Mother Theresa's orphanages. We saw some of the sights. But, all the while, I was going through a crisis…a crisis of faith. I didn't understand. How could there be millions of people who had never heard the Good News before? How could the Father let that happen? I was sad; I was sick; I was angry. I felt guilt for being born in the United States and into a home that followed ÁC. Why was I chosen when so, so, so many were not.

There was a sign painted on the back of the Mother House that read, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." At the beginning of the week, I took refuge in that familiar verse. By the end of the week, however, those words were rocking the very foundation of everything I knew and held dear. You see, the verse doesn't end there. The rest of John 14:6 says, (ÁC speaking) "No one comes to the Father except through me." I remember one night, after I had cried for the third time that day, writing in my journal: "Do you really believe that?" Every fiber of my being didn't want to believe that the millions I was seeing were destined to be separated from the Father because they didn't know ÁC. It was so much easier to think that they would all be okay. However, I came to the conclusion that either the whole verse was true, or it wasn't. And, if it wasn't true, everything I had been taught, everything I had believed, everything I had experienced was a lie. If one part of the Book is untrue, it makes it all untrue.

I left this place feeling like a part of me had been ripped out. I wasn't sure what to think anymore; I wasn't sure what I believed. Within the next two weeks, I was a counselor at a C-ian girl's camp close to where I live. I was teaching these girls about something I was so unsure of myself. I sought the council of some godly women during this time and just being able to talk about my questions and doubts helped so much. The bottom line was that the Gsd of the Universe who created everything, set the world in motion, had control over everything and everyone. He is, was, and will always be sovereign. I, a created being, was not sovereign and trying to figure everything out like I knew everything was pointless and self-destructing. One morning, my friend called me and told me to read Psalm 65. It reads:

¹ Praise awaits
you, O Gsd, in Zion; 
   to you our vows will be fulfilled. 
² O you who hear prayer, 
   to you all men will come. 
³ When we were overwhelmed by sins, 
   you forgave our transgressions. 
⁴ Blessed are those you choose 
   and bring near to live in your courts! 
We are filled with the good things of your house, 
   of your holy temple.

 ⁵ You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness, 
   O Gsd our Savior, 
the hope of all the ends of the earth 
   and of the farthest seas, 
⁶ who formed the mountains by your power, 
   having armed yourself with strength, 
⁷ who stilled the roaring of the seas, 
   the roaring of their waves, 
   and the turmoil of the nations. 
⁸ Those living far away fear your wonders; 
   where morning dawns and evening fades 
   you call forth songs of joy.

 ⁹ You care for the land and water it; 
   you enrich it abundantly. 
The streams of Gsd are filled with water 
   to provide the people with grain, 
   for so you have ordained it.^[c] 
10 You drench its furrows 
   and level its ridges; 
you soften it with showers 
   and bless its crops. 
¹¹ You crown the year with your bounty, 
   and your carts overflow with abundance. 
¹² The grasslands of the desert overflow; 
   the hills are clothed with gladness. 
¹³ The meadows are covered with flocks 
   and the valleys are mantled with grain; 
   they shout for joy and sing.

I had to make a decision. Was I going to trust the Father, His love, and His justice, or was I not? I decided I was going to trust Him. I still don't understand. My human mind still sometimes thinks it is unfair, but I decided that the Father's sovereignty was really just that—sovereign. That decision has affected almost every decision I have made since that day. The state of the world was something I was no longer content with. I had interceded for Workers for years, but suddenly interceding was not enough. People were living and dying without Hope. They didn't know, many of who had never even heard, of the Way, the Truth, and the Light. I could not sit comfortably in my American home while millions around the world were dying, destined to spend eternity away from God, and they did not know the Way to have a friendship with the Father.

I had to go. The Father called me. In His amazing plan, He sent me back to the place where I first saw the world like He sees it—the place where my heart first really, really hurt for the lost, the place where I first really, really saw the hopelessness in people's eyes, the place where the Father opened my eyes to it all. So, four years later to the day, I am here—living and serving amongst these people. What an awesome privilege!